Auld Lang Syne
by its a story of love
Summary: SQ AU: Emma is homeless, Regina comes from a different world entirely as the daughter of socialite Cora Mills. Regina decides to leave the party early and meets Emma on her way home. TW FOR ANXIETY. One shot possible epilogue if enough support


**I am not homeless and I don't wish to offend the homeless community so please forgive the inaccuracies. I am loosely basing it in London but I won't really mention many places because I am not familiar enough with it. Oh I don't speak Spanish- so the Spanish used is courtesy of my brother and google translate.**

 **I don't own the characters, they belong to A &E and ABC.**

 **Enjoy and Happy New Year**

Emma's teeth chattered and her hands shook as she pulled the rough, dirty blanket around her- a gesture more than anything, she had become numb to the cold long ago. She took a look down the street she called home- it was too many an ordinary suburban street, lights were on as people prepared for tonight. Tonight was New Years Eve- one last hoorah to the year gone. Or in this case it was one last fuck you. Emma wasn't ignornant, nor would she deny 2016 was a hell of a year, she did see the irony though in people's disappointment, call her cynical but that was life- one big fucking disappointment. She didn't like that fear and hatred had won. She hated the fact that a man who thought that rape, that sexual assault was something to joke about was the most powerful man in the world, but she wasn't shocked, she was resigned. All her life she had been nothing- the politicians don't even insult people like her- they're invisible. An army of people- of citizens with the clothes on the bags, the food they can scavange, who don't exist. It used to anger her, she used to want a make a difference, to be the one that shouted from the rooftops. She'd grown a lot since then and learned no one would listen.

She looked to the sky and prayed for a dry night it was going to be bad enough as it was. It always was on New Years Eve, everyone was drunk off their arses with little care for their own safety, they were loud and arrogant. Their heavy footsteps like thunder. Disturbing her peace. Emma hated her life, she didn't hate the solitude.

/

Regina Mills looked at herself in the floor length mirror, the tight red leather dress suited her figure perfectly, her mother wouldn't approve but quite frankly Regina didn't give a fuck. The fact that she was attending this gala should be all her mother needed. That was her new years resolution to get out of her mothers claws. To be free. It had been her resolution since she was six. She grabbed her purse shaped like an apple- if only she could use it to poison her mother, and made her way down ready for the arrival of her driver. She'd told mother she could get a cab, which expectedly met with much disapproval.

New Years Eve which meant that when Regina arrived at exactly 8pm- she couldn't be late but she would be damned if she was early, some of London's finest were already drunk, fabulous. She eyed Mallory Nuria, her college friend and one of the few people she counted as a friend. Mal was loud and vivacious, and had a similar dry sense of humour. Mal greeted Regina with an overexaggerated kiss to the cheek, before grabbing two champagne flutes from a passing waitress.

They clanged their glasses- "Cheers" that was another thing she loved about Mal- she knew her need for a drink before anything else.

Mal was about to start prying into Regina's life- a trait that Regina was less fond of, before they were both interrupted. Regina would have breathed a sigh of relief, if it wasn't for the fact that it was her mother.

"Mother" she started, not bothering with trying to be cordial

"Regina dear, glad you could come. I did say it was a formal gala though, I hardly think that garment counts. You're a lady regina, a Queen, not some common peasant that goes to the seedy nightclubs" her mother remarked

Regina took a deep breath. "Yes mother I know it was formal but all my other dresses I had worn before, and I couldn't commit that faux par and a Queen is more than just her clothes. "

"Very well, it's too late to change now anyway. Do make sure you talk to people won't you dear. There are so many people that can help you make something of yourself"

She kept fighting the words in her head- the digs her mother made. About her appearance about her job. About everything. You could give her mother the world and it wouldn't be enough. What made it worse is that Regina loved her mother- without question. She was her mother, she had taught her how to walk, how to talk, how to use the bathroom. Her mother loved her; she just struggled to express it.

Regina nodded making a quick decision. To stay or go. She knew the easier option would be to stay. To take a deep breath and stay, to offer fake smiles and enjoy the wide range of alcohol on offer. It would appease her mother and what was she going to do if she left. Nothing.

She looked around the room- everyone dressed to the nines, flirting, that shrill fake laughter filling the air. No one here really wanted to be there. It was a show, a pantomime organised so they could feel morally superior along with everything else. She didn't doubt that any of them were particularly mean or vindictive- just a little shallow. They spoke of politics- of what Brexit would mean for the country- whether the economy would shrink or grow. Discussed Trump and his view on nuclear weapons and the climate. They spoke and were knowledgeable but their words lacked interest, lacked heart. It was a script, not a life.

She made her decision- she was going to leave to hell with the consequences.

/

Emma didn't know the time; to be honest she couldn't remember the last time she had owned a watch. She guessed midnight was approaching, any traces of day long since gone, people were no longer hollering taxis or heels on the pavement. No the streets were deserted.

/

Regina quickly realised she had no idea where she was, or which way home was. She wasn't even sure she wanted to go home. She was scared and alone. In the middle of London.

She kept wandering, sticking as much as she could hope she could find a tube station or a familiar landmark. Anything really that would distinguish one road from the next.

It was all becoming too much. She should have stayed at the party. It was safe and warm. She tried to remember how to breathe. Even a shallow breath. It didn't work. She willed herself to stop thinking of everything that could go wrong- trying to focus on a good memory. She felt so weak. So helpless. She hated it – hated that she was a slave to her own mind, one that liked to taunt her with every good moment and surprise her with the bad. She was startled out of the trance (she supposed) by a sound. The sound of footsteps..

/

Emma was used to listening, it passed the time. Made things interesting, or at least not mind numblingly boring. She was used to the sound of tears, these tears were accompanied by laboured breaths. Emma made her way towards the sound- praying this wasn't going to be a big mistake.

Around the corner she saw a woman, her back to her, from the look of her dress, lost alone and crying. Usually Emma would just walk away, an over emotional drunk, a bad break up, something was pulling her closer though.

"Excuse me" she offered

Regina looked towards the young woman, little more than a girl. She was momentarily shocked by her appearance- the baggy dirty trousers and the overlarge coat indications of her situation. She was more taken aback by the emerald eyes, glistening under the dim street light- so much pain yet so full of love. What should she say.

"Um I'm lost and everything got a bit much. You must think that's funny" she mumbled

Emma hated people staring – the not knowing what they were thinking. She hated pity too, she was surprised to see this woman didn't hate her. Or even judge her. Well that was new. She was gorgeous too.

"I thought you might be. I don't think you're stupid to be afraid of being alone at night. Only the breavest people are scared- it shows they are aware of their flaws. Just be sure to not forget your strengths.C'mon follow me"

Regina was once again left speechless by the blonde woman, so insightful- optimistic but wise too, genuine. "Where are we going"

"It's new year soon- might as well see the fireworks and then I'll show you the way home, where is home Mayfair?" she asked a teasing glint in her eye

"Might as well I suppose. Not mayfair, Notting Hill." She replied rather sheepishly

Shit way to go Emma. You've made her feel bad "Sorry I didn't mean to judge"

"You did, but I understand. You must see people like me all the time. "

"I don't…meet people like you all the time… she paused realising she didn't know her name

"Regina and you are?"

Regina- latin for Queen, it suited her. Emma never gave her name, it was too dangerous. She trusted Regina "Emma"

Regina sensed how important that one word her name was to her, thankfully the chimes of big ben ended their conversation before it could get more personal.

Emma placed her hand on Regina's shoulder. We'll watch from here

Regina nodded, she didn't want to be among all the crowds. The countdown began. 1 1. Happy New Year rang out across the city.

Emma smiled as she looked to the side. Maybe 2017 would be better.

Regina had doubted whether she should leave the party but now she was more than glad she did.

A sweet but almost haunting voice cased her to look to her right. Emma wore a soft smile, her eyes welling with tears as she sang a familiar song.

 ** _Should old acquaintance be forgot_**

 ** _And never brought to mind_**

 ** _Should old acquaintance be forgot_**

 ** _And auld lang syne_**

Regina's own eyes were brimmed with tears as she crossed her arms and reached to Emma. Their hands now joined, both feeling an instant warmth.

Regina joined in, her voice slightly huskier than Emma's

 ** _For auld lang syne my dear_**

 ** _For auld lang syne_**

The crowds of London carried on singing the famous tune but the two women weren't listening anymore- a hesitant Emma leant forward, kissing Regina on the lips. Regina closed her eyes and just let herself feel, the kiss was sweet and tender. It ended far to quickly but it would hurt more to carry on.

Emma led Regina to the tube, refusing to wave goodbye. Happy New Year, they exchanged instead.

/

Both women awoke with fond memories of the night before, both scared it was a dream, knowing it wasn't by the memory of their lips on each other, the pain in their hearts.

/

Emma walked down to the waterfront. Wanting to relive it, to hold onto something something she hadn't had in a long time. Hope.

/

Regina stopped outside the door. She had yet to go in this room. The memories too raw. Slowly she creaked the door open and made her way to the bed. Memories of her father flooding back.

 _Her mother chose her name, almost wishing royalty upon her, it was her father though that made her love it: Mi rein te quiero mucho (My Queen, I love you so much) Her father made her feel like a true queen- special and loved, capable of anything. Spanish was their secret language, right up until her fathers last day. She knew the day was coming, could see the light in his eyes beginning to fade. She entered his room that day knowing it would be his last. She didn't cry just hugged him tight, committing him to memory. Her repeated words from a story she hadn't heard since she was a child: Tener coraje y ser amable (Have courage and be kind) . She smiled remembering the line of her favourite princes- although regina was much more of a villain girl. Holding his hand she sniffed Gracias papa. Te amaré siempra (Thank you papa, I will love you always) before finally adding in English "You can let go now daddy" just as his eyes closed._

She knew what she had to do, throwing on her warmest cashmire jumper and jeans and boots she grabbed her bag and made her way to the tube- hoping that she would be able to find her prince charming. She stopped off at the Starbucks and began to walk along the waterfront. She saw her, sat on the bench and observed- disgusted by the way people looked at her. Knowing Emma was oblivious to the world she made her way over to the bench.

Passing the cup to Emma, whom after a moment realised who it was- her face a picture of shock, pure joy and confusion- she began to sing "We'll take a cup of kindness for auld lang syne."

 **Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it (I'm not entirely happy with it but there you go)**

 **\- tell me what you think : )**


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